don't know much about the donor.
know that she was a young woman. Somehow I'm under the
impression that she
was a young teenager, although I could be wrong about that. We know that
she was from Oregon. While I was 35,000 feet in the air last
frantically winging my way from California to TicTac, I looked down at
the lights of Portland and sent a silent prayer of gratitude and
blessing to her family.
know that the
donation of her tissue and organs saved twenty lives
last week, including my mother's.
is breathing with
two healthy new lungs today, thanks to the uncommon generosity of the
donor and her family. Her transplant surgery took place late
Thursday night, March 10th. By Saturday morning her eyes were
open and she was responding to simple commands. By Sunday she
was fully awake and off the respirator. She'll be going home
soon, we hope, to continue the convalescence under the loving care of
her beloved companion Vince. Eventually -- with luck, and therapy, and buckets of
determination -- the two
of them will soon be sending us postcards from around the world, once
all of this made
possible due to an anonymous woman and her family.
don't know the donor's name. We don't know what color she
her bedroom, or who her favorite teacher was, or what she wanted to be
when she grew up. We don't know if her eyes were blue or
brown ... if she preferred cats or dogs ... if she twirled her spaghetti with a fork, or
chopped it up into little pieces and ate it with a spoon. Chances are we'll never
know any of the details. But that's OK, because the important
thing -- the thing that my family and I have taken
away from this experience -- is knowing that
not all tragedy is purposeless ... that everyone
has the potential to be a hero, in ways big and small ... and that we all need
to check and make sure our donor cards are signed and up to date.
thinking maybe that's all we
Mom and Secra
~ Christmas Eve 2004
to throw a rock?